


The blanket fort fic we all needed, really

by cryptolonium



Category: Portal (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, its not really shippy, its sort of is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-22
Updated: 2017-03-22
Packaged: 2018-10-09 07:53:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10407384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cryptolonium/pseuds/cryptolonium
Summary: Chell and Doug slowly get more comfortable with each other





	

Doug had spent most of the day on the couch, testing out various positions, trying in vain to find a comfortable way to lie down. It wasn’t easy, with his leg constantly cramping up and sore, and the couch was just too soft. Even after almost a month of living here, in Chell’s tiny apartment, he was too used to sleeping on the floor for this, but both Chell and the doctor they had asked had advised that it would only make his leg worse. He supposed he’d eventually fall asleep on his own, but all having spent hours trying to take a nap had done was made him cranky and exhausted, although not exhausted enough to actually sleep. It was a vicious cycle. He heard the door unlock, and tensed up, relaxing a tiny bit when he saw that it was Chell, and she waved hello, and went into the kitchen to put down the grocery bag on the counter. He was always a little nervous around Chell. She… tolerated him, for the most part. They rarely saw each other since they were both almost always working and mealtimes and mornings were always tense and quiet. 

“Have you had dinner yet?” She called from the kitchen. 

He honestly didn't remember. Adjusting to a three meal a day schedule should have been easier than getting used to a couch, but it wasn't. Now that food wasn't so scarce, he could just eat when he was hungry, which surprisingly wasn't very often. 

“I don't think so,” He called back. 

“Is pasta okay?”

Chell had been free for a while now, long enough to pick up at least a veneer of normalcy, although he knew from the panicked sounds at night and the way she tensed up around anything mechanical, balling her fists so hard they threatened to bleed, that she was still in a period of likely indefinite recovery. 

“What? Oh, yeah.” 

There wasn't a table, so they sat side by side on the couch, Doug spearing his penne three or four at a time in rapid succession. Meals were mostly shared in silence. There wasn't much to talk about these days. But today he figured he might as well make an effort. He lightly tapped her on the shoulder to get her attention and so not to startle her with any sudden noise. She set her mostly full plate on her knee and quirked her head. 

“What?”

“How was your day?” He asked through a mouthful of noodles and vegetable. He had forgotten to swallow before he spoke. She smiled a little, which made him smile. He wished she would smile more. He wanted her to be happy. She deserved to be happy.

“It was okay,” she started. “It's getting cold out, so the restoration will probably be postponed till spring. I'm gonna need to find some winter work.” 

She chased a pea around the edge of her plate. It took a long time for her to ask anything back. 

“How was yours?”

“Okay too.” 

He worked in a very small bookstore, and most of his job consisted of chasing squirrels out the door with a broom and fiddling with the broken cash register, which was more tiring than it sounded. 

“A little sore,” he admitted under her scrutinizing glare.

“Yeah?”

“Well, I...”

“Me too.” 

She stood up suddenly, practically throwing the plate back onto the counter and storming into her bedroom. Doug was momentarily petrified - he had done something wrong, he had made her mad, she was going to kick him out and then he couldn't pay for his meds and god knows what would happen to him then. So when she came out with an armful of pillows and blankets, he naturally had a few questions.

“What are you...”  
“Stay there for a second.”

She arranged the pillows and blankets into a nest like structure on the floor next to the couch, then, much to the confusion of Doug, threw a sheet over his head. 

“Get onto the floor for a second.”

He obeyed, unable to fully process what was happening. She tucked the sheet in, making a roof from the back of the couch to the kitchen counter. She ducked under the roof and stuck her hand out, motioning for him to join her. He was not so sure he wanted to join her in a small, secluded space where she could potentially do anything she wanted with him. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust her, but she could have a knife, or scissors, or even just her large, muscular hands. Okay, so he didn’t trust her. But he also didn’t want to disobey her, so he rather reluctantly ducked under the sheet and scrunched himself up next to the back of the couch. 

This was actually pretty nice. It was small and dark, den like, and almost as comforting as the hall closet he’d claimed as his own space (he had yet to tell Chell about this). Chell grinned at him from across the fort. He inched a little closer and she didn’t back away push him back. She was more relaxed than he’d probably ever seen her. Their forearms were almost touching, they were so close. 

He fell asleep there. Waking up a few hours later he saw that Chell had apparently fallen asleep too. Chell was so warm, warmer than wedging himself in between a hard light bridge receptacle and the wall, warmer that the radiator under the window when they turned the heat on all the way. It was nice. He fell back asleep, lulled by her gentle, even breathing and the soft sounds she made. He was a little less afraid of her after that night.


End file.
